


Expendable Equipment

by sundayrice



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Everything Hurts, Exploration of MTs, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, chapter 13 spoilers, overuse of bold and italics, promptis cuddles mixed with horrifying mt secrets, trying to find your boyfriend in a scary maze but to no avail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 21:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10930452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundayrice/pseuds/sundayrice
Summary: Prompto is a boy made from the ground up of ugly secrets. There is one secret, he figures, that is ugliest of them all and that he doesn't want anyone to know. He doesn't want Noctis to know.The truth would hurt them both. Why tell the truth when all it does ishurt?





	Expendable Equipment

**Author's Note:**

> is there such thing as a vent fic because this might be it. a fic written hastily (unbeta-ed, i'll edit it later) in a fit of emotions i'm having over prompto. this was inspired by some cool MT meta/analysis [here](https://t.co/qSDKsuWHOX) and [here](https://t.co/UNi8mInqwB). it's a bit more of an experimental writing style and i apologize for the overuse bold and italics.
> 
> warning for some unsavory imagery of injuries here and there and strong language.

Insomnia was not a friendly place. Insomnia was not a friendly place as Prompto grew to learn after but a few years of residing within the Crown City. Insomnia was a lively and free place. It was filled head to toe with people, going about their daily business. Insomnia was always a bustling place with chatter so loud that Prompto could barely hear his own thoughts walking around the crowded boulevard. But it was a not friendly place, especially to those that dare call themselves outsiders.

"Cover your wrist," his mother whispered, a tone lingering on the edge between sorrowful and commanding. Prompto, who had no sense of distinction between the two, took it as a command and, as with every command, it was one he took to heart. 

"Cover your wrist with this," in one hand she held a wristband.

It would take Prompto years before he truly learned what the symbol on his wrist meant. For now, it taunted him. "Cover your wrist," his mother repeated for the third time with not so much as a whisper to reveal the true intention behind her confusing words. Prompto tried his best to piece together the puzzle himself. 'Cover' must have meant that something was bad about it, that he needed to hide it away from the rest of the world. Or else he would be hurting someone. Why would a few, thick, black lines do anyone any harm?

_Why won't you tell me?_

_Why won't you tell me?_

_Why won't you tell me_

**the truth?**

It wasn't worth pestering his mother to try and find out the truth, since he already knew that her answer would be something along the lines of "I don't want to talk about it." Whatever it was, it was a secret that Prompto had to live with. Even if no one told him exactly what that secret was.

 

|||

 

Prompto had been to school – public school – before, he could say that much. Though Prompto knew very well that school wasn't going to be the same from here on out. He was getting older and the older he got the older the other kids got. The older the other kids got more the other kids would catch on.

_"That face shape, it's pretty weird, isn't it?"_

_"I've never met anyone with blond hair and blue eyes like his. No Lucian looks like that, anyway."_

_"Is he Accordan?"_

_"He looks like a Niff."_

_"Yeah, well there's no way they'd let a Niff in past the wall. Too risky."_

It didn't take long for Prompto to become accustomed to whispers and giggles from people who passed him. After a while, he started to expect it and became surprised when someone _didn't_ mention his weird face or natural blond hair.

Prompto wasn't the only kid that had very few friends. The other kid he found that had little friends, though, was quite a surprise to him. Somehow, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prince of Lucis and probably the single most talked about person – besides maybe King Regis – in all of Insomnia had no friends. That had to be borderline impossible, Prompto figured. He was swarmed with girls and boys every day and yet somehow when it came to snack and lunch break, no one would speak a word to him.

Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum was a boy that fascinated Prompto, and he needed to try and be Noctis's friend. It was a hefty goal and Prompto wasn't sure he could accomplish it. Not like he was now. Lonely, quiet, secretive. He couldn't be a friend of Noctis's being like that.

So, Prompto decided he would wait. One awkward encounter with Noctis at lunch time was enough to say that he wasn't worthy just yet. Prompto had finally tried to talk to him, only to slip on stray gym equipment and hurdles and fall flat on his face. Not a good start. After that, Prince Noctis tried to help him up with a whisper of the word 'heavy' under his breath, struggling to support Prompto's weight with his tiny arms. Prompto was certain he wasn't trying to be malicious, but even still, it stung a bit, those words. And then, after that mess, the lunch bells rang and Prompto dashed off; there was no point looking back. Looking back and seeing Noctis's disgusted face. He had already embarrassed himself enough, so there was no point worrying if he happened to embarrass himself a little more.

One day, he'd be worthy, but not quite yet.

(He'd never be able to call himself worthy with that mark that laid bare on his wrist. But, as long as he kept his origins a secret, who was to say that he couldn't at least try?)

 

|||

 

Memories prior to Insomnia came in flashes.

Somewhere, Prompto remembered the loud thud of footsteps pattering along metal. He remembered the mechanical clicks and cries of rusty machinery. Thump, thump went the footsteps and followed soon after came drowned out chattering among the voices of two older sounding men. He remembered the acidic feeling of vomit rising in his throat until he was on the floor and coughing out oily, black bile. He remembered the thick smell of blood in the air as it flooded into his nostrils until his vision blurred and everything around him faded into fuzz and white noise. 

Prompto woke up in a cold sweat. His chest was tight and his eyes were wide, with a little bit of gray fuzz clouding his vision. And soon, the gray fuzz disappeared, leaving Prompto with the familiar sight of his bedroom, warm bedsheets, and cozy pajamas. 

_7:42 am_ read a small clock on his nightstand. Well, shit. That meant it was way past time to get ready.

A fifteen year-old Prompto learned to push away those bad memories. It was always to the furthest corner of his mind so that he was vaguely aware of said bad memories, but didn't have to worry about them when he was in public. It was something akin to a talent, as if hiding away from the truth was something to be proud of.

Before leaving for school, he took extra care to make sure he didn't forget his wristband. The bright green wristband was a memento that Prompto took with him everywhere. He wore it like it was glued to his skin, all in favor of covering an ugly reminder of his past.

Would Prince Noctis accept him if he saw that mark? Would anyone?

Prompto was terrified. Would Noctis even be at the same school as him anymore? It was entirely possible that he wouldn't be. And, even if he was, how on earth could Prompto approach him without getting dismissed as a total weirdo? Noctis had no reason to talk to someone like him. Noctis would recognize him as that 'weirdo from elementary school' and that alone was a reason to never talk to Prompto again.

Prompto kept his shoulders pushed back as he walked through the school gates. His head darted around, unsure where to keep his eyes focused. Clusters of people were everywhere and it made Prompto's heart pound. Too many unfamiliar faces, all here at the same time. Not too far away there were some groups of girls gathered, giggling excitedly and babbling on about something that Prompto couldn't quite catch.

"Is that Prince Noctis?" muttered a male voice behind him. That caused a chain-reaction of more gossiping and giggling from behind Prompto. The cluster of girls became excited, keeping their distance, but poking around to see if they could catch a glimpse of the elusive prince.

Prompto's head perked up too, looking around wildly to find  **him.** Was he truly in luck, that somewhere, somehow, he was lucky enough to find  **him** in the same school as himself?

Out came a boy, slouched over slight, with his hands in his pockets. He was pretty average-looking, Prompto would've said if he hadn't a clue who he was talking about. His face was soft, not at all sullied by the fact that he was probably super tired. His whole aura gave off the air of someone confident and cool. Prompto was wide-eyed, most certainly stupid-looking as he stared at him from a good five or six meters away. This was his chance, and probably his only chance, to talk to Noctis before the opportunity slipped out from his fingertips. Prompto adjusted his wristband and swallowed all his doubts, just for this moment. Just for this moment. 

"Hey there, Prince Noctis!" Prompto said cheerfully, slapping Noctis on the back to get his attention. "I'm Prompto! Nice to meet you!"

Prompto's palms were sweaty and his throat was dry. On the inside, he was screaming at himself. _Gods, what an idiot you are, you think he'll actually want to be friends just because you said 'hi'? If anything he just think's you're some stupid guy trying too hard to be friendly and then failing because he had the audacity to speak to the prince of Lucis! And what if he doesn't even want to talk to you, I mean-_

"Don't I know you?" Noctis asked, a cute smirk tracing lines on his face.

Prompto wasn't quite sure how to respond, so instead of words, he offered a playful, yet nervous laugh. And with that, all of a sudden the two of them were walking together, _walking together,_  with Noctis giving Prompto a teasing pat on the back.

"Nice to see you again, Prompto," Noctis said with a smile on his face that, to this day, Prompto will never forget.

 

|||

 

"Hey, Prompto," whispered a tired voice. Prompto turned back to see a messy head of black hair and a face with bags under his eyes. "What page are we on?"

These two boys who lived worlds and dimensions apart and yet, somehow, all of the stars in Eos managed to align so that not only were they in the same school but also, the Lucian prince and Prompto sat together in the same class. And the Lucian prince was asking him for help with schoolwork.

"Page 27, last paragraph," Prompto said and Noctis whispered a 'thank you'. He was still entirely dumbfounded by this whole Noctis business.

Prompto's desk was near the back, next to the rightmost window. It's far enough from the teacher that Prompto didn't have to worry too much when he got lost in his thoughts and was also really busy staring at the Lucian prince's pretty face.

Noctis sat right behind him, and frequently the two would exchange small talk while their teachers wasn't paying attention. Noctis was a nice boy, fun to talk to and had a good sense of humor, even though it was pretty dry. All in all, it was a miracle that Prompto and Noctis were friends, but by the Six, maybe Prompto truly deserved someone like Noctis in his life by this point.

Their friendship started out as something small, a time-waster sort of thing, but it certainly meant the world to Prompto. Noctis would share food, funny stories, jokes. It wasn't that deep, but it was just so nice to spend time with another human being. It was a miracle that Prompto had someone like Noctis that he could talk about _King's Knight_ or _Justice Monsters Five_ with endlessly and neither of them seemingly got bored of being in each other's company.

Noctis never once made fun of Prompto for being anti-social or different; that little detail made everything even more worthwhile.

_"I had a lot of fun today," Noctis laughed. "Thanks, Prompto."_

_"No worries!" Prompto said. "Um, well, I'll see you tomorrow!"_

_"See ya," Noctis said. "Arcade again, tomorrow?"_

_"Sure!"_

_Prompto waved goodbye and watched as Noctis faded into the distance. He would never stop being grateful for the moments the two of them shared, but a part of Prompto wondered how long all of this could last. How long could it possibly last before Noctis starts to wonder about Prompto's origins, he thought. If Prompto made even the smallest mistake and Noctis would find out about the barcode. Prompto thought to himself that it was better to just to pretend like these moments with Noctis would last forever. Prompto thought to himself that it was better to just avoid the truth._

_The truth would hurt them both. Why tell the truth when all it does is_

**hurt?**

 

 |||

 

A twenty year-old Prompto spent every waking moment living in fear of the Lucian prince discovering that he had spent countless nights cuddling alongside an outsider. An outsider, a filthy and unworthy outsider.

_"Do you wanna come over for movies, tonight?" Noctis said._

_"Something special came out?" Prompto asked._

_"No, not really," Noctis said, keeping his voice low. His eyes were cast downward with a bit of pink flushed in his cheeks. "I thought we'd just spend time together."_

_Prompto was caught off guard. They'd been friends for what, five years now and still, it never ceased to amaze Prompto that he was here. He was here and he was best friends with Noctis Lucis Caelum the prince of Lucis. And, to be honest, he often forgot that fact, which made it seem all the more amazing that Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum just wanted to hang out with Prompto and have a good time._

_"Sure thing," Prompto said, trying his hardest to hide his embarrassment. "I'll be over by five. See ya!"_

Movie night didn't amount to being anything special. The two of them keep with their usual routine of being snarky, nitpicky film critiques, relentlessly making fun of whatever they were watching, no matter how much they actually enjoyed it. It was just the two of them, which shouldn't have been too much of a surprise for Prompto, perhaps some small part of himself was hoping Ignis and Gladio would be there to quell his lovesick heart.

"I hate her acting," Noctis snorted. "She acts like a cardboard box."

"Yeah, agreed," Prompto hummed as a yawn escaped his lips.

It was clear that Prompto was nodding off by now. So was Noctis. Noctis shifted his position, as Prompto quickly noticed, lowering himself until his face was buried in Prompto's chest, completely enveloped in his heat and the rosy smell of Prompto's body wash. Prompto wrapped his arms tightly around Noctis, tugging him in closer.

"You're so warm," Noctis said with one final yawn.

Prompto loved the feeling of having Noctis's cheeks pressed up against his chest; he loved the way his head gently lifted alongside Prompto's breathing. He ran one hand through Noctis's hair, slender fingers tugging playfully at the black strands. The prince's snores followed a rhythmic pattern that melted into a beautiful song as Prompto edged closer and closer to sleep.

And just as Prompto was about to fall asleep, a sudden thought hit him.

_You don't belong here._

He wasn't worthy of these close moments they shared. He wasn't worthy of the prince's affection. He wouldn't have the prince's affection after he found out who – what – he was. Prompto still wasn't sure what he was and yet he knew, whatever it happened to be, it wasn't something that deserved to be close to the prince.

That barcode on his wrist was a constant reminder of that.

Prompto's heart was pounding out of his chest, not just filled with love and affection, but also an ever-present sense of anxiety that rushed to him like a sword in his back.  Fingers shaking, eyes wide and restless, tonight was going to be another night of no sleep, no matter how much Prompto wanted it.

_You don't belong here, you don't belong here, you don't belong here,_  the voice in the back of his head urged and years gone past had only succeeded in making the voice louder. And now, his doubts were all the reason to flourish once more.

_You don't belong here, you don't belong here, you don't belong here,_  the voice repeated, mechanical as a broken record. The voice wasn't malicious, instead very monotonous and bit hushed. It was still taunting all the same.

Noctis was fast asleep and Prompto wouldn't want to wake him as he wallowed in his tears. Prompto bit down on his thumb to muffle his cries and, hopefully, Noctis wouldn't have noticed and wouldn't ask him about it in the morning.

 

|||

 

A twenty year-old Prompto had gotten his chance to remember the past. Above all, he didn't want to remember the past. Above all, he didn't want to know what the symbol on his wrist meant.

He stayed, motionless, with only the occasional twitch of a finger. Ardyn pressed his thumb against Prompto's chin, tilting his head back until he was staring straight at Prompto's neck.

"You poor, poor thing," he said. The words fell slick off his tongue; he sounded almost gentle and motherly. If Prompto hadn't known better, he'd almost think that Ardyn felt sorry for him.

"Do you have any idea what you truly are?" Ardyn said and the answer was very simple.

No. No, Prompto had no idea what he really was. And he never wanted to find out.

 

|||

 

A twenty year-old Noctis wanted to do everything he could to save Prompto from the Empire's hands. He had messed up, messed up so very badly, falling for Ardyn's trap and letting Prompto fall into his hands.

A twenty year-old Noctis would do everything in his power to make it up to Prompto.

In the depths of Zegnautus Keep, Noctis is greeted with foul-smelling flesh and heavy air of gunpowder and medicine. It sat heavy in his lungs until he caved in with a few coughs and gasps. The whole atmosphere of the place weighing down on his body.

From every turn of a corner, it all looked the same. There was no distinction between the metal walls. Dark, dead, cold and crowded. The soft glow of flickering lights and sparks didn't do anything to alleviate Noctis's worries. In fact, the light was more creepy than anything else.

_Prompto, where are you?_   Noctis wondered. _Prompto._

Noctis had no choice but to trudge forward, deeper and deeper into Zegnautus Keep. Deeper and deeper into Ardyn's trap.

Further into Zegnautus Keep and the amount of backlogged MT reports Noctis found was quite staggering. With each turn of the page, it revealed some sort of new ugly secret among the existence of these MTs, which no longer could be considered 'magical' or 'technology', instead occupying some hidden space in-between that couldn't be described.

_Born as babies, biological weapons._ The unsettling revelation sat with Noctis that these things that he was fighting were alive, had been alive this whole time.

Noctis had made his way to another narrow hallway, though there was nothing distinct about it that it stuck out among the myriad of other hallways he had already passed by. Except for one thing. One thing that Noctis might have missed if he was walking too fast. A cell.

The cell was mostly empty it seemed, though there was a flimsy, thin body perched up on a bed. Its face was cast down, but that hair and clothing, almost hidden away in the darkness was no lie. It couldn't have been anyone else.

"Prompto!" Noctis shouted. His legs moved faster than his brain, rushing him towards the gate of the cell.

On hand laid on the bars, swinging it open in one fell swoop. He was stumbling over, nearly tripping over his own heels trying to rush to Prompto's side. But that didn't matter. None of that matter. Not when it concerned trying to save Prompto.

"Prompto!" Noctis yelled again, taking his limp figure into his arms. His face was pressed against Noctis's chest, entirely unseen under a mess of golden hair. No reply came from Prompto. Noctis yelled again, sniffling a bit and shaking his wildly. He wanted something, anything from him.

"Prompto?" he said, finally turning the doll-like figure over so that his face was facing him.

Fine, fresh scars traced around his lips and cheeks and one eye was missing, leaving an empty and bloody eye socket. That half of the face was marred, badly marred with burn marks. His other eye was still open, it looked bloodshot, even though it was obvious that he was dead. Red, Noctis noticed, it was a piercing bright red eye. Beside it on the bed laid a helmet encased in ruffled bedsheets.

It must've been an MT. One of the millions they mass-produced and held captive in the Keep. One that bastard made to look like Prompto.

Looking at the MT's half-charred face, skin peeling around the edges of its eye sockets and lips, Noctis jerked his head away. To the right.

And to the right he saw around twenty more of them that hadn't been there before, laying face-down in the cell. They were all very much dead, unmoving and unflinching. Against his better judgment, Noctis decided to get closer. He tip-toed and kept light on his feet. His back was arched, eyebrows furrowed and, finally, as he got closer to the pile of presumably dead MTs, he grabbed one by the shoulder. No movement, no twitching, which Noctis figured, meant that it was safe to go.

He flipped on its side and there, its face was lifeless, dull, yet untouched and beautiful. Its face was so beautiful, of course it was. So, why was Noctis so disgusted by it?

Lithe frame, blond hair, pale skin. All of them had a lithe frame, blond hair, and pale skin. A face that was identical to  **his** , from the shape of their noses to the way its angular and thin eyebrows pointed downwards, and Noctis was hit with a flurry of images all to do with  **him.**

Noctis clenched his fists, smashing one straight into the wall. It hurt, hurt like hell, more than any pain in the world a daemon could inflict. He bit down on his lip, so hard that it started to bleed. An angry fit of crying it was. Now he was crying and he wanted to scream so loud. A rippling roar that came straight from his gut and Ardyn would've figured that Noctis was mad. That bastard of a man was probably in a laughing fit right now, it was absolutely hysterical how angry Noctis was, right? So utterly amusing and fucking hysterical, right?

_Right?_

And chances were, Noctis figured, that from every Imperial airship they had encountered, the MTs inside had looked the same. They were all cut from the same cloth, those very 'lifeless robots' he had been fighting were all just like  **him.**

Lithe frame, blond hair, pale skin. When they weren't moving, their faces were so delicate and innocent-looking. These were the things that Noctis, Ignis, Gladio and Prompto– _fucking_ Prompto – had been killing, this entire time.

_It hurts knowing that you don't matter. It hurts knowing that you could so easily be replaced and no one would notice. It hurts knowing that you've lived your whole life only to just find out you don't have a soul. That you are one of the millions that look just like you and that you are not unique. You never were unique. Only a_ **copy.**

Noctis decided that the world was cruel and unforgiving. He decided that Prompto didn't deserve what life had given him.

Noctis turned behind him and there they were; more corpses of the MTs were piled on the ground. Just as Noctis suspected, they all looked the same. Copy after copy, the all had the same features, same frame, same dead expression on their faces. Noctis couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop screaming. Tear after tear, they stained the faces of the MTs. Scream after scream, Noctis's throat was full of pain and heat.

_Prompto, where are you?_

_Prompto, I'm sorry for hurting you._

_Prompto, I love you. You matter a lot to me. You aren't a copy. I just need to see the real you._

**Prompto.**

**Author's Note:**

> well, i hope you enjoyed. don't worry!! we all know that in canon noctis will find his bf and they'll be happy again!! well for a couple minutes anyways. feel free to cry with me on [tumblr](http://shinjiroh.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/sukukajas) about ffxv. i hate (love) this game.


End file.
